


The Grass Is Greener

by DarlingAngelFace



Series: The Grass Au [1]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Normal High School, Angst, Awkward Crush, Boys In Love, Crack, Crack Relationships, Crush at First Sight, Crushes, Declarations Of Love, Dorks in Love, Dream Team SMP Angst (Video Blogging RPF), Falling In Love, First Love, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Crack, Fluff and Humor, Football, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Gay, Gay Male Character, Gay Panic, Height Differences, High School, I'm Bad At Summaries, I'm Bad At Tagging, Idiots in Love, Internal Conflict, Light Angst, Love Confessions, Love at First Sight, M/M, Minecraft, Mutual Pining, One-Sided Attraction, School, School Dances, Secret Crush, Sports, Teen Angst, Teen Crush, Teen Romance, Teenagers, True Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:21:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27943676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarlingAngelFace/pseuds/DarlingAngelFace
Summary: You enrapture me with a force greater than the Gods themselves. My feelings show no mercy as I bask in your presence.You’re unattainable, but I can’t bring myself to care. Sometimes I hurt with the knowledge that my love is futile. That they will come to not. That in the end, you will reveal it was only friendship you feel.You remind me of the color green. More specifically, the color of grass. From the way your eyelashes flutter to the way, you make my hairs stand on end. It all reminds me of the grass we stand on.The grass where you will inevitably break my heart.*･｡ﾟGeorge is a high schooler with insomnia who spends his nights on the internet or in his backyard enjoying the world at night. Suddenly his peaceful nightly routine is interrupted by his new neighbor who he may or may not find incredibly attractive. Watch as George tries to function while he’s helplessly infatuated with a boy who probably doesn’t like him back.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & Darryl Noveschosch, Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound & Darryl Noveschosch & Sapnap, Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Darryl Noveschosch & Sapnap, GeorgeNotFound & Darryl Noveschosch, GeorgeNotFound & Darryl Noveschosch & Sapnap, GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF)
Series: The Grass Au [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2046338
Comments: 21
Kudos: 83





	1. Insomnia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sleep waits in its velvet dress,  
> the nightbirds grieve, the dark lawn  
> stretches into dogwood trees.
> 
> The telephone  
> rests in its hard bed, the dog dreams,  
> the house ticks and sighs.
> 
> Sleep lies between us  
> like an old love, longed for in the dark
> 
> Insomnia By Jon Loomis https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poetrymagazine/browse?contentId=38745
> 
> ☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ
> 
> When George is met with nothing but restless sleep he goes out to his backyard to enjoy the peacefulness of the slumbering world. As he contemplates how much of a gay disaster the is, he’s met with just the person who’s causing all his troubles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to the people who read the original first chapter and liked it. I got re inspired and made this instead. I wasn’t feeling the way I wrote that first chapter. Please enjoy!

Small droplets of evening rain trickled off the leaves above his head and fell into his lashes. He rubbed his eyes in an attempt to rid them of sleepiness and rainwater. Dots of wetness speckled across his sweater sleeves. Grass mushed under his feet as he trudged through the trees.

What had become an evening tradition of sorts for George was wandering out into the woods and behind his house. Part of the property was a wooded area that led off into fields of lush green grass. Though the fields' color was nothing of interest for George (being color blind and all), the vastness of the landscape, void of modern intervention, never failed to awe him. 

George continued his way through the wood, soft orchestral music filling his ears. On nights when slumber eluded him, George would find ‘aesthetic’ playlists on youtube in hopes of lulling himself to sleep or at the very least relaxing him. By now, George had accepted the fact that sleep would not be a reliable option at night and had changed his sleep schedule thusly. 

When he returned home from school exhausted, he would sleep until dinner, eat, take a quick shower, and start on homework. After finishing all his schoolwork, he would attempt to fall asleep but mostly fail at doing so. Usually, after giving up on trying to rest, George would waste away the early morning hours on the internet or playing video games. On nights like this, when he felt more restless, he would journey out of his house to simply sit and enjoy the peacefulness of the night. To be left alone with his thoughts and the sounds of a sleeping world.

George was aware that the night was not an entirely safe time to be roaming on his own. Truth be told, he was never very far from actual human civilization. However, he always made sure that his house was always in sight, and his phone was always on his person. 

He reached the end of the trees and looked out into the still night. Moonlight lit the field in a soft glow, making the droplets of leftover rain glistening on the grass's blades. George sat down, not caring if his jeans got damp, and pulled off his headphones. Partly because someone might sneak up on him, and partly because he liked the sound of the night. 

A small sigh escaped his lips as he settled into the grass. Today had been a long day, to say the least. Though it was his senior year and the workload was significantly lighter, the school was just tiring. 

George had spent the previous day taking borderline stalker photos of his new neighbor and sending them to his friends. He’d spent the majority of that Sunday afternoon gushing about his infatuation over a boy he’d never even introduced himself to. That morning at school, to George's disbelief, his new, incredibly attractive, the neighbor showed up at school. Which in actuality, shouldn’t have been so shocking, seeing as they were neighbors. 

Not only had this mystery boy turned up in George’s school, but he’d also managed to get himself in three of George’s classes. George had tried his hardest to function like a normal human being, but his teenage angst mixed with his overwhelming gayness and sleep deprivation weren’t doing him any good. And because the universe did want George to suffer, his neighbor sat at the same table as George in every single class they shared. 

Thankfully other people at those tables were capable of carrying a conversation, saving George from making an absolute fool of himself. George groaned remembering how stupid he’d acted. He brought a frozen wet hand to his face to stave off the flames in his cheeks. 

The hand lowered off his considerably less red face and he looked up to the stars. Maybe if he had more confidence in him, he could manage to interact with potential love interests. Maybe if he had a single flirtatious bone in his body, he wouldn’t have to spend nights like this feeling so lonely. So empty.

George was so lost in his tumultuous thoughts, he didn’t hear the footsteps approaching him until they were right behind him. He shot up and spun around at the sound of soft earth squishing underfoot. A low voice connected to the footsteps spoke out into the void of the night. 

“What are you doing in my backyard?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapters little quote is from Jon Loomis’s poem Insomnia, I thought the vibe of those lines fit the vibe of this chapter. I decided that each chapter summary will have a little quote from a song, a poem, or a straight up quote/saying.
> 
> Also I know this one is short, I wanted to write more but I like the idea of leaving on a cliff hanger better. ;)


	2. Below the Surface-Stream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Below the Surface-Stream By Matthew Arnold
> 
> Below the surface-stream, shallow and light,  
> Of what we say we feel--below the stream,  
> As light, of what we think we feel--there flows  
> With noiseless current strong, obscure and deep,  
> The central stream of what we feel indeed.

“What are you doing in my backyard?”

George's heart leaped into his throat. This was precisely why his parents were so hesitant about letting George be outside at ungodly hours of the night. Why he stayed so close to the house, never daring to wander into the tempting expanse of the field. Why he kept his phone with him at all times. Why he did his best to stay aware of his surroundings. But it was all for not because George was about to be murdered in the woods at night like every dumb teenager in every dumb horror movie.

George planted his feet, ready to run for his life but was interrupted by what sounded like a tea kettle. He looked up to meet the eyes of his attacker and froze heart dropping. 

"I'm so-" The teen cut himself off with another wheeze, "I'm so sorry. That probably made me sound like a serial killer or something." He didn't sound or look very sorry to George. 

This was not some random junkie of the night; this was George's new neighbor. George suddenly wished that it really had been a meth head trying to kill him and wear his skin because now George had to face the person he'd been lusting after but also been avoiding. 

"I'm not in your backyard; you're in mine." George quipped back at the chuckling teen. "So what are you doing in MY backyard, and in the middle of the night no less?" George stood his ground, now filled with adrenaline and no outlet, he directed his fear-fueled anger at the blonde who stood before him.

Said blonde met George's gaze and whipped a stray tear from his eye. "Well, shortcake," He said, smirking at George's flustered face. "I came down here to see why someone was in the woods behind my house."

George was slightly taken aback by the name-calling, and even though it was a completely logical reason to be in the woods, he pressed on. "That doesn't explain why you were awake so late." George crossed his arms, hoping to come off the tiniest bit more intimidating.  
"I could ask the same of you." The taller boy replied, grunting softly as he sat next to where George previously had. George opened his mouth, but his mind was empty of possible responses. He patted the grass next to him, motioning for George to join him back on the ground.

"I'm not gonna bite," He smirked, "At least not this early in the relationship." George flushed but relented and sat down, curling his knees to his chest. The blonde seemed to notice his discomfort and let the smirk fall from his face.

"Hey, I am sorry for scaring you." This time the apology sounded genuine. George looked sideways to face him. "We never properly introduced ourselves at school." A toothy grin spread across his face. 

"I'm Clay."

"I'm George."

-

Soft laughter bubbled up his throat at another one of Clay's absurd jokes. "You're so stupid," He muttered between unsuccessfully stifled giggles. Clay was too busy wheezing, a little too hard for a joke of his own, to respond back.

Shades of violet and blue began to kiss the edges of the sky. Clay looked up to the slowly shifting colors of the sky. "I love sunrises." Clay sighed the last of his amusement out of him, serenity replacing it. "Don't you think the color of daylight is so" George looked from Dream's face to the changing sky, "stunning?"

He his gaze back to Clay's awed expression. "I guess it's pretty-" An offended noise sharply left Clay's mouth. "Guess?" Clay turned, an incredulous look on his face. 

George stifled a laugh as Clay floundered for words to describe his betrayal. "Are. Are you blind? The sky is gorgeous, George!" CLay flailed his arm towards the sky for emphasis. He slapped a hand over his mouth to stop the cackle, trying to claw up his throat. Clay simply looked on aghast.

"I sort of am." George managed. Clay met him with another incredulous stare, thoroughly put up with George's apparent insanity. "Literally how," Clay shot back, too accusing to be a question. 

Another unmuffled cackle filled the early morning air. George's eyes crinkled as he smiled at his appalled friend. Crisp air filled his lungs between laughs. George wasn't sure he'd ever felt happiness quite like this. 

It was a dizzying emotion that seemed to feed off of the delirium brought with sleepiness. It was a different breed of happiness, and maybe happiness isn't even the right word to describe it. It wasn't like a blanket, warm and soft leaving him feeling content. It wasn't healthy and pride-filled, like when George accomplished something. 

No, this happiness left George feeling drunk. Drunk on his emotions. He could feel it filling the back of his throat; he could taste it. George felt giddy as this new brand of emotion enveloped his whole being. 

Once George was done laughing and pondering his feelings, he responded. "I'm colorblind, so the sky is barely changing color for me. It looks yellow and blue, which, if you didn't know, isn't the most amazing combination of color." George smirked as comprehension filtered into Clay's features. "Don't get me wrong, it's still pretty, just not worth idolizing." He shrugged, sticking his tongue out at Clay.

"Ugh, well, you're missing out." Clay snarked back, turning to face the sky again. "I'm telling you the sunrise is the most beautiful thing in the world." George scoffed at his obvious exaggeration. "Oh? Almost as beautiful as, say," George paused for dramatic effect "Gabriella Montez?" 

Clay groaned. "Oh my God, I told you that in confidence, and I was like seven!" George burst out into laughter. "And I repeated it 'in confidence'!" He smiled cheekily at Clay, feeling somewhat proud of himself for succeeding in making Clay so embarrassed. 

The light pink blush dusting Clay's face was illuminated by the early morning light. George couldn't help but remember the crush he'd developed on Clay. His feelings had only amplified now that he'd gotten to know him. The infatuation George had developed was no longer look based. Clay was such a genuine and endearing person. He'd never meshed so well with another human being before. 

The bond he'd established was so foreign for George, and it'd happened in such a short period of time. It was scary how vulnerable George had let himself be around Clay. He remembered now that Clay did not feel the same way. That Clay probably didn't even consider him a friend yet. George felt himself pulling back before he let himself get too invested. 

George cleared his throat, noticeably less happy as he'd been mere seconds ago. "I should really get going." George stood up slowly, his bones cracking after hours of being immobile. "I don't want my parents finding my bedroom empty." He let out an awkward chuckle.

"Oh. yeah, my parents would probably think I was kidnapped, new town and all." Clay got up as well, bringing himself to full height and stretching. His shirt rode up, a sliver of his abdomen showing. George quickly looked away before his emotions got the best of him. 

Turning to make his way back home, George was stopped by a hand on his wrist. George turned around to Clay, a confused expression on his face. "I, uh. Could I have your number?" George blanched. "What?" A fiery blush spread across Clay's face, he dropped George's wrist. "Like so we can talk. I don't really have any other friends." 

George stared for a couple seconds, processing what Clay had just asked. Finally, his brain caught up. "Oh! Yeah, sure, um." George reached into his back pocket and pulled out his phone, handing it to Clay. He tried desperately to will away the blush spreading across his own pale cheeks. Clay quickly typed in his contact information before passing the phone back to George. George clutched it tightly, trying to ground himself. They said their goodbyes before heading back to their respective houses.

-

George laid on his bed, replaying the evening in his mind. The blush hadn't left his face, still burning at meer memories. George rubbed his face. He was in deep, and he knew it. He grinned softly to himself, remembering how endearing Clay was. Sure he was in deep, but maybe he didn't mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I love poems by Matthew Arnold and I’ll definitely be using more of his for future chapters. Below the Surface-Stream is such a pretty title I just had to use it!


	3. One Of These Nights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In your eyes, just for a minute  
> In your passing touch, stay for a minute  
> In that short moment,  
> everything stopped for you and me  
> Those times shine for me  
> Let's meet again  
> One Of These Nights

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so sorry this chapter took so long D: ! The rest of the updates should come up sooner because I should be a lot less busy! Please enjoy!

George knew his clothes were innocent and undeserving of his rage, but he was too anxious to care. He had never particularly cared about his colorblindness before. He dressed decently enough despite the handicap, and colors never seemed like such a big deal before now. Clay had invited him, personally asked him to come to his football game. Clay had played at his old school and had no problem securing a starting spot on the team. 

Football games had never been particularly enticing, but he'd gone to at least a handful of games. Because George wasn't an avid game attendee, he didn't own nearly enough school pride paraphernalia to bring with him to the game. Most students had shirts, hoodies, and hats, all sporting school logos. On the other hand, George owned like two t-shirts, both of which were far from appropriate for a football game. 

One was a t-shirt George's mom had bought him when he was a freshman. It was white with a Nasa logo in his schools' colors instead of the standard red and blue with the schools' name underneath. George had owned it for three weeks before he stained it, and being a white shirt, it had stayed that way. If George went out in that shirt in front of Clay, he'd probably up and die. The other was from the schools' computer science club and was black and white, so another no.

George threw another piece of clothing to the ground and flopped onto his bed with a groan. This was going nowhere. George had absolutely nothing to wear with no school merchandise and a wardrobe that consisted of blues and grays to accommodate his colorblindness. 

Light vibrations coursed through the fabric of his blanket as his phones buzzed. George sighed, rolling over to grab the offending electronic. Nick was face timing him. George sat up and hit the accept button. 

"Ar-" Nick started, but before he could get very far, George interrupted. "Nick, I need your help!" George spoke earnestly into his phone. 

George watched as Nick dissolved into laughter. The brunette rolled his eyes, "Nick, it's an emergency!" he dragged out the 'y' whining to his unhelpful friend. Nick stopped laughing and pouted to the camera, "Aww, does Gogy need help with his crush?" He teased.

George flopped back on his bed. "Nick!" George huffed, glaring at his friend, who had gone back to laughing at him. 

After thirty more seconds, George got up and ventured back into his closet; the laughing had died down. "I literally have nothing to wear." He flipped his camera around to show Nick the direness of the situation. 

The ravenette was silent for a moment before he let out an excited gasp. "Oh! Ok, wear that plain white t-shirt and jeans." George flipped around the camera again to stare incredulously at his friend. "I'm sorry, but if you didn't know, our school colors are not white and denim." 

Nick rolled his eyes. "Duh, I know I've been to more football games than you." George stared back, still not understanding Nick's plan. "You just wear that, and I'll have something for you when you get to the stadium." 

"Nick, it's like negative fifty degrees out. I'll freeze to death in a t-shirt!" Nick groaned, "You're a drama queen. It's not that cold, and like I said, I have you covered, just trust me." George glared. "The last time I trusted you, I was offered a tampon shot." 

Nick only stuck out his tongue before hanging up. George tossed his phone on his bed before deciding he might as well trust Nick on this one.

-

The school's band could be heard before George even pulled into the parking lot. His poor heart was absolutely racing, and he probably wasn't even going to see Clay. George felt dumb for being so worked up when he spent the night in the stands and Clay on the field. They weren't going to interact, and he was still filled to the brim with nerves. 

George parked his car, taking a long breath before stepping out into the dark parking lot. He was hit with a wall of freezing wind. His hands almost immediately found themselves on his exposed arms. Nick was an idiot; it was frigid out. 

By the time he'd made his way to the stadium's entrance, he was shaking from head to toe. George approached a smirking Nick with a look that could kill. "Y-you said you'd bring m-e something." George gave him a quick once over before continuing, "You're empty-ty handed." Nick's smirk only grew. "I never said that I had something for you, only that I had you covered." George had half a mind to either hit Nick or call it a night and head back home to his warm bed. 

Begrudgingly George followed Nick through the ticket check and into the stadium. Nick then led him past the school merchandise shop and down some stairs. "W-where are we going?" George was an absolute wimp in the cold and was about ready to fight his best friend over a jacket. "To the stadium's locker rooms." 

"What, are w-we gonna rob the football t-team or something?" Nick chuckled but didn't falter in his journey through the dimly lit hallway. "You'll see," He sing-songed. 

George's heart leaped into his throat, and the glare fell from his face as soon as he saw why Nick had dragged him to the locker room. His shaking stilled out of pure shock. "Hey!" Clay looked up from his phone, moving off the wall he'd been leaning against.  
Suddenly George's cheeks were no longer cold. "Hey Clay," Nick said, turning to look back at George's flustered face with a cocky grin. Oh, George was going to kill Nick for this. 

Clay turned his attention to George, who hadn't uttered a noise. "Nick told me you didn't have any school clothes." Clay chuckled slightly. "I can't believe I have more than you do, and you've been going here longer than me!" Clay held out a hoodie to George. It took him a moment for his brain to catch up and grasp what was going on. 

George would have been worlds more embarrassed in another situation, but he was freezing, and he would take what he could get. He shakily snatched the hoodie from Clay's outstretched hands and shoved it over his flaming face. 

George was so much warmer with the thick hoodie that several sizes too big for him. He finally looked up and met Clay's eyes. "T-thanks" A concerned look crossed Clay's face as he noticed George's shaking. 

George jumped slightly as Clay brought his hands to his arms and started rubbing them in an effort to warm him. "Geez, you look frozen; you should've brought a jacket with you." Clay continued to rub George, seemingly unaware of how flustered he was making George. 

George heard Nick stifle a laugh and briefly considered hitting him. Eventually, Clay removed his hands after deciding George was sufficiently warm. "Well, I've got to go." Clay pointed behind his back. "I'll see you after the game, right?" He looked hopefully at George. "Yes! Uh yeah." George responded, still blushing furiously. 

Clay left through the locker room door, leaving George standing in his hoodie. Nick erupted into laughter. "Oh my God," Nick doubled over. "You have it so bad!" George spun around and smacked the top of Nick's head. "Why didn't you tell me Clay was going to give me a hoodie!" Nick continued to laugh, ignoring the weak hit. "You set this up! Nick, why would you do this to me?!"

Nick righted himself, still smiling. "Cause I'm trying to get you laid." He answered bluntly and started back up the stairs. George sputtered and raced after Nick's insults, demands, and rebuttals lay heavy on his tongue, ready to fling at Nick. 

-

The game had been mostly uneventful, their team beating the opposing side. With George's limited knowledge of football, he really knew when someone scored and where Clay was. The entire game, his eyes were locked on Clay, following his every movement. 

"Well, I'm gonna head home," Nick said, making his way out of the stadium. George's eyes widened. "What? You're gonna abandon me?" Nick snorted, "Dude, you spend like every night flirting with him. You're gonna be fine without me." 

Rolling his eyes, he responded, "I don't flirt with him." Nick shoved him. "Still, I don't want to get dragged into a love triangle or something." The shorter boy laughed. "Literally shut up. I hate you." Nick gasped in mock offense. "Gogy, when will you admit you're in love with me?" He dramatically draped himself on George forcing the brunette to hold his weight. 

The two hooligans were too busy bickering to notice Clay walking up. The blonde wheezed upon seeing the state of the two. "Who's winning?" George was about to answer when a hand slapped across his mouth. "I am," Nick said proudly, having successfully muted the shorter boy. George retaliated by licking said hand, causing the ravenette to retract it in disgust. 

Nick huffed and wiped his slick hand on his jeans. "Well, as I was saying before, I was brutally attacked by this twink," "Hey!" "I'm gonna head home. You two have fun!" Nick said, walking off before George could further refute being a twink. George glared at the ravenette while Clay responded with a polite 'bye.' 

"So," Clay turned his attention to George, "Wanna go get something to eat?" 

-

The duo's first choice of food had been a fast food place where most everyone went after football games. But after seeing the videos all over Snapchat of kids from opposing schools fighting, they decided to take their business elsewhere. Elsewhere had been the next best option, *･｡ﾟMcDonalds*･｡ﾟ. 

George had trailed Clay's car spending the whole ride thinking to himself, 'This is not a date this is not a date this is not a date this is not a date this is not a date this is not a date-.' Still, the lovesick part of his brain kept reminding him of the hoodie Clay had given him and that they were getting food alone together. 

And just as he was giving in to the idea that maybe, maybe, Clay liked him back, the more practical side of his brain would remind him that Clay had in no way, shape, or form asked George out. Nor had he given George any reason to believe the feelings were mutual. It was honestly a miracle George didn't crash his car with how distracted he was. 

Now they were sitting in the bed of Clay's truck eating over-salted fries and looking at the stars. George giggled, "We seem to be doing this a lot lately." Clay looked back down from the sky, "Hanging out in my truck in the dead of night?" George huffed and shoved the blonde softly, "Obviously not," Clay smiled back at him, "Stargazing, and yes in the dead of night." 

George turned his attention back to the stars and missed the gentle smile on Clay's face, "Yeah, I guess we have."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One Of These Nights by Red Velvet is such a pretty song please go listen to it. It has such amazing vibes I love it! This chapter will be one of many with kpop lyrics so strap yourselves in! Kudos and ALL comments are appreciated! MWAH I love you all!


	4. I Can’t Stop Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Temptation sweet as honey,  
> I know it's too late  
> I feel it deep inside  
> I'm gonna lose the fight  
> Eventually I know that I'll be crossing the line  
> I try warning myself  
> Can't hold me back, already standing right at the edge  
> I wanna cave in to the dark side calling to me  
> The ending's obvious, I know it's not right  
> You pull mе over to the red line  
> I can't escape it, you're my weakness and you're my vice  
> I can't stop me, can't stop me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m very excited to have written more physical fluff! I attempted to give these two more physical contact this chapter! Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Trigger Warning? Drug mentions and underage drinking but nothing bad happens all good things

"Clay, no-"

"Oh, come on."

The tone in Clay's voice was nearly enough to make George break his resolve. He felt so immature, lusting over someone's voice of all things, but George couldn't help the way his knees weakened every time Clay spoke in that domineering or desperate voice. 

Desperately trying to ignore the fluttering in his stomach, George refuted, "I already told why I don't go to things like this!" Clay huffed, decidedly tired of his lame excuses. "Georgie, you can't let one bad experience stop you from going!" 

The blonde was pulling out all the stops on this. Usually, George would whine and pull puppy dog eyes to either coerce Clay into doing or not doing something. For some reason that was rapidly infuriating George, Clay was dead set on winning this disagreement. 

"It was not just one bad experience; it was several." The brunette waved a finger in Clay's face. Rolling his eyes, Clay grabbed the offending finger and leaned in closer. George froze as Clay got close enough to make out his freckles in the soft moonlight. "George, just say yes." Piercing green eyes stared into his own brown ones, "I won't let anything bad happen to you."

George was starting to think Clay knew precisely what he was doing to him. God, if George didn't feel some sort of way when Dream spoke to him like that. Yes, part of the problem was his voice, but it was also partly because of his word choice. When Clay wanted to be, he could spin words in a way that left George feeling attacked.

In all honesty, it was unfair the grasp Clay had on his heart. Sometimes it hurt just how much of an effect the taller boy had on him. 

The staring contest of sorts lasted only a few seconds more before George groaned and fell forward into Clay's chest. "Fine, I'll go. Just stop assaulting me with your eyes!" He could feel Clay's chest rumble as he wheezed. "I knew I could convince you, yes!" 

George rolled his eyes for umpteenth that night and attempted to smother the fond grin spreading across his face. He pulled back from Clay's chest, immediately missing the warmth. Finally getting a good look at Clay's face since his victory over him. It was kind of adorable how excited and proud of himself Clay was. The pride was nothing new for the blonde to be seen displaying, but the softness to his expression was something new.

Clay was usually so confident in himself, but no traces of doubt were fleeting from his features. It shocked George to see how much this had meant to the taller boy, even when it was something so trivial. He almost felt guilty for resisting so adamantly. Almost. 

"What makes you think party's here are even that good?" The doubt that had previously left Clay's face was now inching its way back. "Well, I never went to stuff like this, the last place I lived, and I've never really had people to go with." The blonde twisted his hoodie strings between his freckled fingers. "And I mean like I knew when they were and stuff, but people never really asked me to go." Clay bit his lip, obviously embarrassed from sharing glimpses into his insecurities. 

Wavy blonde locks were messed up as Clay racked a hand through them. Seemingly dismissing his moment of vulnerability, a smirk crossed his face once more, the pride more evident now. "Plus, after hearing what a party animal you are, I knew I had to go with you." Memories of flashing lights, smoke, and cheap alcohol-filled George's mind as he fell onto his back with a groan. Plush grass cushioned his fall, and Clay laughed at his dramatics. 

"Clay, I am anything but a party animal," He glared at Clay's wheezing figure, "Sapnap is the one who got invited to those and dragged me to them." The blonde only wheezed harder, and George found himself worrying about his lungs. 

"What was it-" Clay cut himself off with another wheeze, "What was it that guy offered you in exchange for sex? Heroin?" The noise that left the brunette's throat did nothing but send Clay further into hysterics.

"Black Tar Heroin Clay." Tears brimmed the taller boy's eyes, "Oh my God, I can't breathe!" Clay had fallen to his side, clutching his stomach. George couldn't help but laugh. Everything Clay did was infectious.

"And to think you want to drag me back into another potential drug deal." The blonde groaned, "George, stop my stomach hurts!"  
George did not stop. 

Having sat up, he leaned over Clay's trembling body, "What if I accept this time, Clay? You could be pushing me into a life of drugs, sex, and addiction." "George!" Growing bolder, the smaller boy dramatically fell over the blonde. Clay grunted with the impact but didn't cease his laughing. 

"I'll tell my parents now that this new kid showed me the light, and I'll be dropping out of high school to pursue a career in prostitution." He looked Clay in the eyes, deadpanning, "For drugs."

George was confident the wheeze that left Clay's mouth was not good for his lungs, especially with him lying across them. "You're so dumb!" The blonde managed out between wheezes. Finally taking mercy on the taller, George moved off his chest, giving him a chance to catch his breath. 

It took Clay a few moments to properly recover before he sat up and stared at George, tears shimmering in his eyes and a lopsided grin on his lips. The moment their eyes met, Clay's whole demeanor softened. He was looking at the brunette like he was something precious, delicate almost. George hated it.

He was dancing a dangerously thin line, and Clay did nothing but push him farther to the edge. Clay had no right to look at him with those eyes. And though Clay had no right to his heart, George couldn't find it in him to take it back. 

"Seriously though, I'm not going to let anything bad happen to you." He reached over, grasping his hand with a force too gentle for George's heart to handle, "I'll be with you the entire time. No experimenting with drugs on my watch." Mentally he was begging Clay to stop looking at him like that, stop smiling at him with love too much to be platonic. In the real world masked by the cover of night, he blushed, finding only the strength to scoff.

The squeeze Clay gave his hand shouldn't have turned his stomach the way it did. It really shouldn't have, but George was a prisoner to the infatuation that consumed his whole being. 

"Common, I promise it'll be fun." Clay let go of his hand only to pull him into a hug, "Trust me?" George was grateful at least a portion of his brain wasn't too busy gay panicking to respond. "I already agreed to go, didn't I?" 

"Thank you, Gogy," Clay teased, speaking into his hair. Honestly, if Clay expected him to walk himself home after this, he needed to stop treating him this way. "I'll pick you up around eight tomorrow, alright?" George hummed in response, too enraptured in Clay's overwhelming presence to formulate a bratty response.

-

God, this was a mistake. They hadn't even made it to the house, and George could hear the blasting music already. Drunk and stoned teenagers littered the lawn, some seemingly passed out in the grass or in standing groups talking. "You're welcome for accompanying you to your first high school party because I just might up and die of alcohol poisoning tonight." He turned to face Clay, who was already wearing his signature grin, prepared for whatever whine was about to leave his lips. "I hope you're happy with yourself." 

Clay turned the keys out of the ignition. "Stop being a brat and get out." There was no malice in his voice, only affectionate teasing. George rolled his eyes, smiling to himself. 

He rounded the car and stood in front of the taller who'd just shut his own door. "So do you want to mingle with the dope heads first, get wasted, or go in and dance to eardrum rupturing music?" George ticked off each option on his long fingers. Clay scoffed and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, leading him into the house filled with buzzed teens. "Based on your experience, junkies aren't the most polite company, and I'm driving, so dancing it is." George was too busy reveling in the warmth of Clay's arm on his shoulder to refute the response.

-

At some point, like always, George had attracted some stoner or another and was offered a drink. Since he wasn't the designated driver, no foul if he got a little tipsy. George had gotten a lot more than a little tipsy. 

A while back, Clay had left him on a couch while he attempted to locate a bathroom. Clay had been a little hesitant leaving George by himself, but George had found his friend Karl and promised he'd be ok without the blonde. The two brunettes had done nothing to keep themselves sober and had descended into bad jokes and drunken giggles.

"What begins with s and ends with p?" Karl thought for a moment, "SMP?" George hummed, "Yes… But like what else starts with s and ends with p?" His words were slurred, barely comprehensible. An expression like that of an excited puppy crossed Karl's face. "Simp?" "STRAIGHT UP," George responded, not even bothering to tell Karl he'd guessed wrong. High pitched giggles bordering on manic escaped their throats, too drunk to understand how lame the joke really was. 

Suddenly George perked up, seeing Clay approach the coach from behind Karl's head. "Hey, Clay!" Clay chuckled slightly, "Yeah?" George put on his most charming smile, though considering he was out of his mind, it didn't come across as very charming. "Are you going to bed soon?" Clay leaned on the edge of the couch, resting his forearms on the cushions. "Uh, why?" He responded, slightly amused. George's mind blanked seeing how pretty Clay's smile was. "What did you say?" George delivered the words like they were upside down. 

Comprehension dawned on Clay's face when he realized just how out of it the shorter boy was. "Are you drunk?" Seemingly unaware of Clay's words, George repeated his question, only earning sputters from Clay. "Wha-" "Are. You. Going. To. Bed. Soon." George repeated, making sure to enunciate each word. Clay sputtered once more, "Why do you want to know?" 

Drunkenly George wondered why Clay was so difficult. "Am I not allowed to ask? Just answer yes or no." George fixed Clay with the best glare his buzzed mind could summon. Clay laughed at him, "No, you're not." He leaned back up and rounded the couch to the brunette. "Common, we're gonna go." He motioned for George to stand up. 

George stuck out his bottom lip in a soft pout, "No." Clay guffawed. "You didn't even want to come in the first place." Had George been sober, he would have seen how fondly Clay was looking at him. "Yes, but now I'm having fun, and you just want to make me sad." He retorted while trying to wobble onto his feet. Ever the protector, Clay reached out to steady the shorter. 

Humming softly, George leaned into the blonde's touch, enjoying the feeling of strong hands holding him upright. "Clay, dance with me," George whined into the fabric of Clay's hoodie, dragging out thee to emphasize his whining. 

George felt the hair on the top of his head ruffle as Clay chuckled at his antics. "No, Georgie, we're gonna go home now." Nonsensical whines were the only response Clay got as he attempted to walk George to the exit. "Can you walk?" George was close to passing out as he leaned against Clay's chest, shaking his head in response. 

He was too out of it to fully recognize what happened next. Through his drunken haze, all George could conceptualize was being carried to Clay's car, the loud noises of the party dying in the background. George was pretty sure he passed out of the car ride back because the next thing he knew, the car was stopping, and he was being carried again.

George was so focused on how nice it felt to be so close to Clay and soft the bed was to fully realize what was going on. Sober and awake, George would have discovered he'd been carried into Clay's house, not his own, and put in Clay's bed, again not his own. But most of all, George would have realized as Clay had gotten into bed next to him that he was about to spend the night cuddled up to his crush. 

"Sweet dreams, Georgie."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All kudos and comments are appreciated!  
> I hope y’all liked this chapter. I was debating on what song to use for this chapter and I Can’t Stop Me from Twice had the perfect lyrics. Let me know if there’s any tropes you’d like to see me add in further chapters. Next chapter we get Gogy waking up in the arms of his crush. 👀  
> Also please give some love to my Wattpad, this story has literally eight views on there and it’s depressing.  
> https://www.wattpad.com/user/DarlingAngelFace


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